


The Multiverse is Bullshit

by Washedawaycloud



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Evil Author Day, F/M, Mid-Century Girl in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Rogers in Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Washedawaycloud/pseuds/Washedawaycloud
Summary: Sorcha Rogers just wanted to keep her friends from killing each other. She didn't expect to end up thrust into a different world.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	The Multiverse is Bullshit

“TONY STOP!” S orcha ’s world has narrowed down to the thundering heartbeat of her injured friend and the one currently trying to kill him during a moment of emotional overload. She can’t fault Tony for this. She can’t. She’s not sure what she would do if what had just happened to him, happened to her. 

“It wasn’t him! He didn’t  _ want _ to kill them. Please, please just stop!” Her shield is thrown, knocking her other best friend off balance while she takes the time to stash the other one between propellers on the fans between the building struts. Neither one is allowed to die here, and she’s not killing anyone. Even if Tony is trying like hell. 

She catches an armored fist to the face, and it knocks her back several steps. Her shield is gone. The room is flaring green, it might be a trick of the light, all that power that Tony is putting into this. She doesn’t pay attention. 

“He killed my parents!” 

“He’s a victim too! Please, stop, Tony! Let him go to trial if that’s what you need, you can both have closure that way. Death only begets death,  _ please listen to me!”  _

Punches are flying, she’s aching, there are tears, but she gets Tony away from the strut where Bucky is. She needs her shield. His beam is powering up again. God she can’t survive that. But she’ll take it if it means he’ll stop, if Bucky lives and she  dies, and Tony lives, it’s okay. She can let  _ that _ happen. 

“Come on, Tony. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“You chose him!” 

“I choose you both! You ’ r e _ both _ my brothers, don’t do this. He didn’t want to kill them. It was Hydra. “

“IT WAS HIM!” And the  unibeam lights into her, throws her across the room as it burns her, makes her scream and thrusts her through the wall. The pain shuts off all at once and S orch a loses consciousness as the pain ebbs. Her last thought is she hopes this is what Tony needed. If this is the revenge that sated his need to get some justice for his parent’s murder, she will gladly bear the weight of  it, so Bucky lives. 

“Commander! Commander there’s a woman at the Temple.” A scout who is out of breath stops before Cullen, heaving great breaths while still trying to speak. “She came from a rift that spits no demons, like the Herald, but it disappeared after she fell from it.” 

“Where is she?” His brows crease as he turns from the training field, handing off a stack of missives and reports. 

“She was smoking, Ser, we didn’t want to move her. The rest stayed with her, I was sent to you and the Nightingale. “

“Get a healer, get Leliana, and Cassandra, I will meet them at the ruined Temple.” 

“Aye, Ser.” 

The woman is like no one they have ever seen. She is as tall as Cullen is, just as muscled as Cassandra and somehow her face is soft in  its rest. There are rapidly healing burns on her side, her armor is melted to her in places, her hair a waterfall of corn silk yellow, and there is a strange disk not five feet from her as well. A solider, but without an offensive weapon, Cullen has to ask himself what sort of warrior she really is. 

“We need to move her.” 

He had taken no more than the quickest of looks at her, and she seems to be no threat, no weapons, just a shield, and she’s unconscious. He sweeps in to lift her into his arms, and she is pliant, head tilting back when he lifts her around the shoulders, one of the scouts shifts her so she’s pillowed against his shoulder – safer than if left to loll. He feels no magic outside of residue that is quickly waning, nodding toward the shield as he turns toward Haven. A mystery then. Where did she come from? 

With her in his arms, he can see she is healthy, a bit of bruising under her eyes, perhaps from worry or lack of sleep, but otherwise her complexion is the clearest he’s ever seen, her hair is fragrant, a touch sour from sweat, but still – cleaner than some people he’s been close to in the last few hours – nay months. Her armor is strange, it moves under his hands, but is thicker than any fabric he’s seen. And her healing – that is not normal. 

When he is halfway back down the mountain, the scrapes and burns on her face are gone. It makes him worry about the armor and he pauses with the scouts, Leliana and Cassandra finally catching up. They pull the armor from her skin, and watch as she flinches, eyes fluttering but the woman doesn’t rouse. She’s born back to Haven without further incident, though the moment Cullen is inside the Healer’s cabin he tells Adan to get the armor off her quickly, explaining what had happened on the trail back. 

“Commander, Sister Leliana, Ambassador Montilyet, Seeker, I hear we’ve a new Fade survivor.” It’s hours to midnight and the Herald has returned. Max with his wide, sarcastic smile, irreverent bearing and flinty eyes stands before them smudged with dust from the trek back from the Hinterlands. “Is this what it will always be like? I go into the field, and come back to new interesting mysteries?” 

“I should hope not.” Cassandra is the one to speak, still a bit annoyed she had been told to return to Haven upon finding Mother Giselle. “While it would be nice to be blessed with further survivors of the Conclave, this woman is not. She is a warrior of some fashion, and came to us from a rift, much like you did, injured, but without any magic digging into her flesh.” 

“Should I get Solas , then? No doubt he would be key in any examination needed to ascertain whether or not this mystery woman is indeed touched as I was.” Max spits out the word touched like it’s burned him. He makes no bones about not believing he is the Herald of Andraste. Max believes solely in luck. Luck kept him from the Templars. Luck kept him from getting roasted frequently during the worst of the war by mages while looking for his brother,  _ luck _ kept his twin alive long enough for Max to shuffle him off to a safe house far from their overly pious family. 

“It can’t hurt.” Cullen is the one to answer, shrugging under Leliana’s questioning look and rolling his eyes at Cassandra’s huff. It wasn’t as if he were going to let one of the Surgeons near the woman. They kept blathering on about  _ leeches _ and  _ bleeding people _ as if that wasn’t positively barbaric. 

What greets them in the mystery woman’s cabin is not what had been expected. When Max came through the veil, he’d slept for days upon days. This woman is already awake, and they can see what mark the Fade left on her. Her eyes glow brightly, and they are the clearest blue Cullen has ever seen. 

“What the hell? Where’s Bucky? Where’s Tony?! God, please tell me they’re alive and that idiot didn’t kill him. Where’s my shield? Why am I fucking nude?!” The last comes out a bit shrilly, and while she does secure an arm over her chest, her cheeks flaring red, she doesn’t react like he would assume most women did. There is no cowering when three men and three unknown women walk into the room with her. If anything, she seems ready to fight. 

“Peace, my lady.” Solas is useful as ever, knowing to keep himself small, speaking gently, edging her with his palms out to show he has no weapons. “We did not think you would be awake yet, I’ve heard your injuries were quite extensive. I – and the others – all expected you to be asleep. I was sent to see how far along your healing had come.” His eyes slide over her, noting the pristine golden pale peach skin that’s shown. She reminds him of Sylaise with her golden pale complexion and corn silk hair. Those eyes are fierce, and that too – reminds him of the hearth keeper. 

“Where. Is. Bucky?” Sorcha will not be deterred. This is all just – as bad as the day she woke up in the future. But now it’s looking like she’s been woken up in the past. One man is wearing plate mail, as is one of the women. The redhead, who seems like she could give Natasha a run for most beautifully lethal woman of the century, is wearing chain under her outer robe. None of this makes even the slightest bit of sense. “I want to see Tony and Bucky.” 

“My lady,” the elder man, though not by much, but she can clock the gentle crows’ feet around his eyes from the thirty or so paces between them, speaks again. “There was no one with you when we found you. Indeed, I’ve never met a Tony or a Bucky within Haven.” 

No.  _ No _ . It hits her like a train. No Tony, no Bucky. Where the  _ fuck _ is Haven? She looks at him carefully, warily as he edges closer. The hair on her arms begins to stand on end, at the back of her neck, too. There is magic in the air. She’s been around Thor and Wanda enough to know the feeling fairly intimately.  Her eyes narrow, and finally his ears register. 

“Fuck! You’re – am I on  Svart a l f heimr ?! ” She stands, abruptly, bring the sheet with her. It’s more for defense than modesty. She could use it like a noose if need be,  her nudity would only distract them. Her eyes dart toward the window. Snow on the ground. She’s only ever read  _ legends _ of  Svartalfeimr and had never seen an Elf out of their regalia or the photos of them in the regalia after the London incident years ago. 

Solas pauses for a moment.  Svartalfheimr . He has not heard that name since the Evanuris came to power. It was beyond the Void, past the farthest reaches of the Fade. Where the Forbidden ones had been exiled, it was the name they gave this new home world of theirs. That she has identified him at with that place is distressing. 

“No. We are not  of  Svartalfheimr , nor are you there. I take it, that you are not of Thedas?” He reaches with his aura, probing her gently. He is shocked to see her flinch and bear her teeth much like a cornered dog would.  Fascinating. Humans tended not to react to magic unless explicitly cast on them.  She could feel his aura touching her. He prods at her again, finding her aura easy to slide into. She has been touched by magic quite frequently. But she tastes of powerful magical residue. 

“Stop it.” Her tone makes him withdraw rapidly, immediately recalled to day when he had taken orders from Mythal. A general’s ability to lead. There are more and more questions about this woman mounting with each miniscule interaction they share. 

“I apologize, I wasn’t aware you could feel that, you are not a Mage.” 

“I’m a soldier,” Sorcha replies tartly, “but I’m not an idiot, magic is hard to miss. You might not be Thor, slinging around Thunder and Lightning with a hammer, and you certainly aren’t Wanda bending reality to her will, but it feels similarly.  You and the two in plate all use magic.” 

“My lady –“ Cullen steps forward and Sorcha’s head snaps to level her flinty glowing stare on him. He stops, hands coming up. “I apologize. However, you are mistaken. Seekers and Templars don’t use magic.” 

“Could have fuckin’ fooled me,” Sorcha sneers, feeling decidedly less amicable the longer she’s naked and cornered. “Y ou fizz, just like this one,” her head jerks toward Solas, “and he’s admitted to being a – Mage, was it? Magic is magic – no matter how you use it.” 

Solas snorts, hiding it with a cough rather badly. Max out right laughs while Leliana and Josephine look on with mild interest. Magic sensitive. Templar material then. Not of this world – that could be spun in their favor. A soldier – she could bolster the ranks.  Though, she asked only for her shield, not an offensive weapon. That didn’t bode as well for her fighting ability. 

Sharing a look with Josephine, Leliana steps forward. The men are fumbling this. Not answering her properly, getting her hackles up. Leliana would try her hand. 

“Could you tell us what you remember before you woke?” 

“I was trying to save Bucky and Tony. Tony – he just learned that Bucky had killed his  parents some years,  no,  decades ago, while being held captive and brainwashed by Hydra. Bucky didn’t  _ want _ to kill anyone. He didn’t kill outside of war – he was always on my six, my sniper, keeping me safe from what I didn’t immediately see.  Tony – I know it hurt him. But he wanted to kill Bucky! That’s not the answer, it’s  _ never _ the answer in that situation. The courts – it would have been fair. They would have both gotten justice and closure to a horrible situation. He – Tony –“ her eyes close, the glow disappearing behind heavily lashed lids. Leliana is jealous, just a touch, of the woman’s beauty. She is like a living statue . 

“Tony hit me with a blast from his armor. It – god it was like being set on fuckin’ fire.” Her drawl is becoming more pronounced, the thread of a lilt in it that startles the room. She sounds – almost Dalish , were it not for the way she forms her vowels. 

“You were burnt when we  got word of your arrival. Badly, we had to remove the armor from your skin, you were healing so rapidly.” 

Leliana doesn’t miss the way Sorcha tenses up. It’s sub t le, but her hands tighten in the sheet, her shoulders  marginally straighter, those eerie blue eyes snapping open is the most demonstrative sign the redhead has been heard. 

“Yes. I do that.”

“Is it common among your people?” 

“No.” The tendon in the blonde’s jaw works, it’s clear this is not a topic she enjoys discussing, and yet she offers up more. “I am the only one exactly like me. Bucky was close, but he doesn’t heal as fast.” 

“Who exactly is this, Bucky? Your lover- “ Leliana doesn’t get the whole word out before the blonde goes scarlet. It’s startling how fast it happens. Her pale complexion is cherry red, from the roots of her hair, at least down her shoulders and to her collar bones. 

“No! God no. He was , Tony was – Him and Tony. He \-  ** They ** w ere my brother s in all but name.” But clearly the idea had been there, the possibility of more. Interesting.  “Ugh. Not them. I love them, but not like  _ that _ .” She remarkably doesn’t  look away from any of them , blush still on her  cheeks. 

“ Ah, well. That doesn’t quite explain your attachment, ” Leliana’s quiet declaration  has the blonde stiffening, eyes turning flinty even as they continued to glow. 


End file.
